


Dance Of The Snowflakes

by Marinia



Series: Gilded Cage-Series [3]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Ballet, Ballet Dancer Roman, Dancing together, Dorks in Love, Fae & Fairies, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, No One Is Human, Plans To Escape Together, References to captivity, nature sprites, servant Virgil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:20:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22852402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marinia/pseuds/Marinia
Summary: Roman ached with longing, as his fingers met the window pane separating him from it. The Prince's hands danced across the glass as he walked further with light steps.Roman and Virgil dance with the snow flakes.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders
Series: Gilded Cage-Series [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1643770
Comments: 10
Kudos: 89





	Dance Of The Snowflakes

Roman gasped, seeing the gardens covered in white. The trees were decorated with sparkling ice, blooms of flowers forever frozen in frost. Winter had come upon the fair, fae land he'd lived in for the past few months, lacking any of the mundane discomfort and darkness the season possessed in the mortal realm. Instead it embodied a hazy, plum version of the season, missing the sharp edges proclaiming it a reality. 

This- the gardens looked like a fluffy blanket had been thrown over them, shining in the light of a pale sun as cotton candy clouds let snowflakes fall upon the ground as powdered sugar would fall upon a cake. It was a gorgeous pasture, a painted paradise given form. 

Roman ached with longing, as his fingers met the window pane separating him from it. The Prince's hands danced across the glass as he stepped further. He didn’t even notice how the palace he resided in changed before his very eyes; the wallpaper took on a heavy pattern instead of the summery cream-tone, the light furniture was replaced with heavy, ornate pieces, the paintings on the wall made way for bookcases covering them entirely and firecases sprung out of nowhere as the offered foods on tablets and tables became hot chocolate or cider instead of lemonade and sweet tea. 

The only room which remained unchanged was the winter garden- a room with walls of panelled glass, little more filling it than an ottoman and a small table. Roman ignored it. He was pulled to the jolly game of the snowflakes as if he was meant to be a part of it, to dance among his kindred nature sprites. His pointé shoes almost felt too tight, almost felt stifling, as he realised he might not be able to do such a thing, to join his siblings. Ror all other sprites had to be his kind, even though it was hard to recognize their forms, unaffected by the harshness of morality. 

Roman was so close to the glass walls now that his breath stained it with condensation, his fingers tapping against it. As if they could find a door handle, as if they could break the invisible limitations keeping him in the glorious palace, the golden cage filled with nothing but temptations to trap him for even longer.

He took another breath, rising up to the points of his toes to turn and twist, following the images of his siblings; the snow flakes that didn't land on his skin, that didn't swirl around him, that were only three inches away, that danced soundlessly through the sky. He turned in a pirouette with a small storm of them, before stretching into a perfect arabesque, hands reaching out- he couldn't hold the position for long, not en pointe, not without a partner, so he moved into a step sequence, following his sibling's dance with his own movements.

The dark eyes on him remained unseen, as the shadow watched him dance, caught in a trance- the ones chosen by the Fae Queen were always beautiful, but, Virgil thought, this Prince was just enchanting.

The tray he carried only held an envelope, an order in the disguise of an invitation. Virgil left it behind soundlessly as he stepped closer to the dancing Prince. Even though there was no music to accompany him, it still looked like he followed a certain melody, like he knew exactly which steps would come next, which figures and which jumps- 

The Prince sprang up, higher than a mortal would be able to, and Virgil caught him, fears of broken bones and twisted legs cursing him into action.

Roman was heavy in his arm, heavier than his graceful, airy steps would suggest. If the sprite was surprised he didn't show it; he only moved to face Virgil, eyes wide and face tight- until he recognized the servant. His face softened and a smile curled at his lips. His hands brushed Virgil's where they held his waist, where they supported him, took the weight off his pointed feet without restricting his movement. 

"Twirl me?" He asked, impish, and Virgil had no choice but to obey, gifting the Prince a wry snort before acquiescing. He watched his hands come together over his thrown-back head until he stopped. The Prince fell forward, into Virgil's hands, as he dropped into another arabesque, leg stretched behind him.

Virgil couldn't quite breathe, only holding his dance partner, afraid to overstep, to take away any part of the control Roman clung to with such vigour. He watched, as Roman straightened up again, as he moved away in pitter-patter steps, rounding the winter garden until he met Virgil again. 

He didn't know how, but he wasn't surprised when Roman jumped towards him; caught him with ease and held him up with little struggle. Roman reaching up, almost able to touch the ceiling, almost able to imagine his fingers would meet the snow instead of the cold glass.

Virgil carefully put him down, the Prince losing the graceful poise which had clad his dancing. "Thank you," he murmured, because he knew that the embodied shadow would leave too, if he could, "for dancing with me." 

His partner smiled, crooked and not quite human, but soft as the petal of a daisy. "It was nothing; I was glad to do it. You..." he ducked his head, as if that could erase the tenderness in his eyes and his hold. 

As if hearing his thoughts, Virgil let him go. Roman tried not to miss his touch. "You're a wonderful dancer." 

"I know." The smile on Roman's face was proud, almost smug. His eyes were yearning, as they found his siblings yet again. "I was about to join a company, before all this, live a human life-" 

"Well, plenty of humans get trapped by the fae," Virgil walked to the tray, to the order disguised as an invitation. His smile was conspiratorial as he handed it to Roman, "and plenty of them have gotten away before."

Roman laughed, low and teasing and just a bit too raw. "Well, if you say it like that..." He took the invitation, not even sparing a glance to it; he had better things to look at. "But you need to promise me you'll accompany me, Virgil. Once I play human again." 

"On my word, my Prince." The words were laced with a jest, as if it could erase their earnest nature. Roman nodded, smiling softly. He pressed a kiss to Virgil's cheek, before turning to leave, biting back his giggle as he watched Virgil's black skin teint dark red.

The shadow's eyes followed him, his fingers meeting the glass panes, testing his strength to see if he could break them yet. He still wasn’t able to. But... he was much stronger than he used to be. He took a deep breath. The shadows of the sparse furniture in the room left its places on the floor, flowing to him and lending him their strength. When he tapped the window again, it almost cracked. 

He took the tray, returned to his duties, biding his time until he could free himself and his Prince. 


End file.
